


Untouchable

by bepreparedf0rhell



Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Blood, Consensual Non-Consent, Fear, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Non-consent, Spit As Lube, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26800228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bepreparedf0rhell/pseuds/bepreparedf0rhell
Summary: In which Chris is a vampire looking for a snack and a good time and Justin's just along for the ride.
Relationships: Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Justin Morrow
Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954528
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15
Collections: Friends in Sin Kinktober 2020





	Untouchable

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober prompt #1: consensual non-consent  
> (prompts from: [feistycadavers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feistycadavers) and [yours_eternally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yours_eternally) 💜)
> 
> SO. This is the first work for my first time ever attempting Kinktober. This has been written and sitting in my drafts for quite a while and tbh I'm pretty excited about it. I'm sorry I've been so absent here lately, but hopefully I'll be much more active this month! The idea is for a fic every Saturday in October, and I'm not sure I'll pull it off but I'm definitely gonna try! Here we go!

“Just fucking get it over with,” Ricky says tersely, rolling his eyes as Chris looks up at him from the spot his gaze has been fixed at the toes of his boots for nearly an hour. 

“Fuck off,” Chris says for the nth time that night, scanning the room in front of him, all the writhing bodies as they rubbed on each other in what was apparently supposed to be dance, every one of them sweating and looking, quite honestly, like the most unappealing group of people Chris had ever had the displeasure of laying eyes on. 

“Whatever,” Ricky grumbles, downing the rest of his drink and slamming the empty glass down on the bar they’re leaning on. Ricky mumbles something under his breath that Chris can’t quite catch and with a final look at him, takes off across the club. Chris loses sight of him in the throes of people for a few moments, and by the time his eyes finally catch him again, he’s all the way across the room dancing on some guy that Chris has never seen before. 

“You look lost or somethin’,” a voice says, startling Chris out of his thoughts. He tears his gaze from the spot that Ricky and the guy are already making out, looking up and realizing with a bit of a shock that the deep brown gaze of the man standing beside of him is almost level with his own. Chris is so used to people being shorter than him that when they aren’t, it always catches him off guard. 

“I’m not,” Chris throws back casually, sipping the drink in his hand for something to do. It’s only when a short chuckle erupts from beside him that he looks up again, actually properly taking his appearance for the first time. 

Obviously he’s tall, but he’s also stupidly attractive in a sort of off-center kind of way; features exaggerated and made to look even more unique by the added touch of the fact that he’s wearing makeup on his face, full with a smokey purple eyeshadow and what seems to be green paint splattered down one of his cheeks. His body… Chris gives him a single once-over before deciding he’s exactly his type. Built like a freight train; long legs, long arms, hands that look sturdy and like they could support some weight, shoulders so wide and broad Chris is almost surprised they fit in his shirt. His hair is a shock of neon blue that glows in the club lighting and goddamn if Chris can’t feel himself already getting hard through the leather pants he’s wearing. 

“I’m Chris,” he says, surprising himself. He’s not sure why he’s introducing himself; it feels gawky and weird, but he completely forgets about it when a smile erupts on the face in front of him that is so wide and bright it almost hurts his eyes. 

“Justin,” he says, sticking his hand out. Chris smiles back, shakes it. 

“This place is a fuckin’ dive,” Chris says, looking out at the crowd in front of them again as he takes a swig of his drink. Justin chuckles again, nods.

“What are you doing here, then?” he asks, and Chris shrugs. It’s a good question, one Chris barely has an answer to.

“My friend insisted I come to unwind. Apparently I’ve been a little too moody lately,” Chris informs him, rolling his eyes. He moves to take another slug of his drink, realizing it’s empty. With a huff, he puts the glass down on the bar behind himself. 

“And are you?” Justin asks, and Chris raises an eyebrow. “Unwinding,” he clarifies, and for the first time Chris manages to smile back at him. 

“Not yet.”

Chris lets his gaze wander up and down Justin’s frame, ideas fully forming in his head that he really hadn’t expected when the whole ‘let’s go to a night club and find someone to fuck’ thing had first been suggested.

Justin smirks and Chris is pretty sure he’s thinking the same thing. 

“Wanna… get out of here?” Chris asks, and Justin raises an eyebrow. For a moment, Chris thinks he’s made some sort of monumental mistake, but then Justin takes a heavy gulp of his drink, putting his own glass back down on the bar. 

Justin doesn’t say a word, just gives Chris a devious look and takes off toward the back door of the club. Chris shoots a look around for Ricky, meaning to signal to him somehow that he’s leaving, but he’s nowhere in sight. 

When they end up in the alley behind the club a few moments later, Chris barely remembers walking out there. All he can think about is Justin’s ass in front of him, the shape of it very visible through the tight skinny jeans he’s wearing. 

When Justin’s lips are on him a moment later, he jumps at first, startled out of his thoughts. When Chris is finally partially coherent again, he offers Justin his tongue, wrapping his arms around his waist. The kiss deepens and Justin’s hands are on him too, pulling him in, holding him tight. 

“You’re fuckin’ filthy,” Chris mutters a minute later when Justin’s hand makes its way down to his crotch, palming the ever-growing bulge and squeezing at the sound of Chris’ words.

They make out for a few more minutes, fondling each other like highschoolers in the back of their parents’ car. God, Justin’s a good kisser. He’s so warm, so giving, so fucking attractive. 

Chris’ breath hitches, and suddenly he’s trying his absolute hardest to keep his thoughts anywhere other than the fact that on top of everything else, Justin smells… heavenly. Chris can hear his blood rushing through his veins, his heart pumping in overtime with the adrenaline of the situation and it’s delicious, he’s delicious. Just as Chris is about to try and force the ‘stop’ thought through to his brain, his fangs protrude through his gums involuntarily, his eyes clouding over and becoming blurry and unfocused. All he can focus on is blood. Sweet, thick, sticky, delicious blood…

“What the fuck?!” 

Justin’s panicked yell only turns Chris on more and it’s not until he’s caught off guard by being pushed roughly to the ground that he opens his eyes and sees that Justin’s bleeding. Sure enough, there’s a gash in his lip that seems to Chris to be the perfect size to fit one of his fangs in it. It’s a good bite too, deep and wide, blood pouring out of it at a rather astounding rate. Chris doesn’t remember biting Justin, but he can taste his blood on his lips, in his mouth, and suddenly all he can think about is more, more, more. 

“I…” Chris starts, trails off. He stands, the horrified look in Justin’s eyes making him feel like his dick may just burst right through the zipper of his pants.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Justin demands, and Chris doesn’t even have the focus to respond. Justin’s lip is still bleeding, now pouring the precious liquid down onto his shirt. Justin reaches up to touch the wound, running his fingers over it, surprise evident in his gaze when he pulls them away with blood on them. 

Justin looks back up at Chris, waiting for him to say something, but he can’t. He watches as Justin’s eyes go wide at the animalistic way Chris bends a little, getting ready to pounce. A small gasp escapes Justin as he turns, taking off down the alley. Chris is in front of him in no time at all, grabbing him by the shoulders and yanking him backwards. 

“Please…” Justin whimpers, struggling against Chris’ grasp. Even as wide and strong as he is, Justin’s puny human strength is no match for Chris’ supernatural strength and he holds him back easily, taking a deep breath and drinking in his fear like Kool Aid. 

Justin runs again and Chris is on him instantly, pulling him back, shoving him against the wall and pinning him there. 

“You’re not getting away now,” Chris tells him, desperation almost dripping from his tone. “Not a chance.” 

Justin whines again, his eyes wide. Chris smiles, a much brighter and confident smile than any he’d offered Justin before, and he grabs him by the shoulder, spins him around. 

“Please don’t. I just… I don’t want to die,” Justin cries, and Chris can smell it when salty tears begin pouring down his cheeks. 

“Oh, sweet boy. I’m not going to kill you,” Chris says, and that just seems to make Justin more uneasy. He squirms underneath Chris, who’s now got both hands firmly on his shoulders, shoving him into the cold brick of the wall, his face turned to the side just enough that Chris can see it, can see the look in his eyes, can see the tears as they drip off his chin and mix with the blood on his shirt. 

Chris pulls one hand off of Justin’s shoulders and reaches around his front, meaning to undo the fly of his jeans. Instead, he just yanks it until the button snaps off, the sound of it hitting the ground barely registering with him. Justin’s still squirming, still whining, still making it so that all Chris can possibly think of is what he wants to do to him. He reaches down and forces his own pants open, his ready and waiting dick immediately falling out of them. Justin’s pants have already fallen down some with the fact that they no longer have a fly and Chris reaches down and pulls them and his underwear down just enough more, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as Justin’s ass is exposed. 

He wasn’t lying; he doesn’t want to kill Justin. But between the smell of his blood mixed with his fear and the way his ass looks in the pale light, he’s not sure he’ll be able to stick to that one. 

“Please…” Justin murmurs once again, making Chris’ dick twitch so hard it grazes the soft skin of Justin’s lower back, smearing precome down it. Justin whines, his squirms officially graduating to something akin to thrashing. 

“Stop it!” Chris demands, immediately able to smell a new wave of fear washing over Justin. He’s still moving, still fighting, but Chris is still easily stronger than him so it doesn’t really matter. 

He raises his free hand to his mouth, spitting in it and then reaching down to slick his dick down with it and a mixture of precome. Satisfied, he reaches down with a couple of fingers, finding Justin’s hole and shoving them in. Justin cries out, and Chris can hear him grit his teeth as more tears splash down his face. 

“Are you ready?” Chris whispers, more for himself than Justin. Either way, Justin shakes his head, cries out again.

Ignoring him, Chris finally lets himself shove his dick into Justin, immediately having to steady himself. Fuck. He’s never been one to come particularly fast, but this… this something different altogether. He runs through every thought he possibly can to get himself together for at least a minute. If absolutely nothing else, he’s determined to get another taste first. 

He slams into Justin again, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around his stomach to hold him steady. Justin seems to have resigned himself to his fate slightly; he’s not making as much noise anymore, nor is he fighting as hard. He’s still crying, though, still whimpering every now and then. 

Chris sighs as his dick pulses deep inside Justin and he lets his fangs pop through, not even thinking about it before ripping the sleeve off of Justin’s shirt and sinking them into his shoulder. Justin jumps, a yell of pain escaping him. Chris barely even hears it. All he can manage to do is feed and fuck, doing both at an alarming rate if he’s being honest with himself. 

Time passes, though Chris couldn’t possibly say how much. His orgasm builds and explodes, making him shove his teeth deeper into Justin’s flesh. Justin starts to go limp underneath him and Chris is vaguely aware of the fact that he’s losing consciousness. He can barely register it, though, as stars burst in front of his eyes. 

A few moments later, Justin fully slumps forward in Chris’ arms and he’s finally able to get himself aware enough to notice. 

“Oh, fuck,” he mumbles, finally taking his mouth off of him and pulling out. He re-buttons his own pants and lets Justin slip down the wall to the ground. “Sorry,” he whispers, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth, unable to stop himself from licking off the blood that ends up there when he pulls it away. 

By the time someone finds Justin there a little while later, Chris is long gone. 

~

As Chris walks in the front door of his apartment, he’s still high from both his orgasm and the abundance of blood swimming around his stomach. He can almost feel it; warm, cozy. 

There’s not a light on in place and for just a moment he’s concerned as he realizes it. There should be lights on…

“You feelin’ pretty good about yourself?” a voice asks from the living room beside him and he jumps, shielding his eyes as a lamp snaps on. 

Justin’s sitting on the couch with his legs crossed in front of him. He’s changed into pajamas and washed his face, his hair pushed back with a thick headband. There’s an empty bowl of what looks to have been ice cream on the coffee table in front of him along with a half-empty glass of something bubbly. 

Chris smiles, shrugs. 

“I’m not feeling particularly bad, no,” he says, and Justin smiles back, standing and crossing the room. He stops in front of Chris and wraps his arms around him, pulling him in tightly. Their lips meet and Chris sighs into it. Justin is always so soft after Chris feeds on him, clingy and sweet, and Chris absolutely lives for it. 

“Are you alright? I didn’t mean to make you pass out,” Chris asks when the kiss breaks and Justin rolls his eyes. 

“Not the first time and won’t be the last. I’m fine. Rick got me home safely and gave me some of his blood so that I would heal faster,” Justin informs him, and Chris nods. 

“Good. I’m sorry if-,” he starts, but Justin cuts him off with a kiss. 

“Stop apologizing. It was my idea, remember?” he asks, and Chris smiles again. 

“I remember.”

“Good. Now, then… I’m pretty sure you owe me big time for not only destroying the fly of my favorite pants but also for me being able to maintain my top-notch acting skills as I creamed my fuckin’ pants,” Justin says with a chuckle, and Chris laughs. He’d been so preoccupied with the facade and the blood that he hadn’t even noticed that Justin had come too. 

“Whatever you want, love,” Chris tells him, pushing his lower lip out in a pout. 

“Oh, I’ve got some ideas,” Justin informs him, raising an eyebrow and smiling devilishly.

**Author's Note:**

> wheresyoursavior.tumblr.com


End file.
